Lost Not Forgotten
by Kiva Taliana
Summary: Twenty years on from Queen Morgana's fall, King Merlin of Camelot realises he cannot keep the painful Pendragon history to himself as it becomes clear that the prophecy of the Once and Future King will not be denied, and it is his son who will live through the tale. (Complicated sounding but keep reading and it will explain itself.)


As Merlin took his seat in the royal box with the other kings, Lot and Renyard, he surveyed the ring and the people gathered ready to watch the second semi-final. King Merlin of Camelot decided, to himself, that the scene was something satisfying to view. Although the stands were filled mainly by the citizens of Camelot, many from the royal entourages were clustered within, gathering together to watch the spectacle. The joust this afternoon, however, was most definitely a time for Camelot.

The young Crown Prince, Arthur, against his childhood friend, and sometimes rival, Sir Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. Whoever won it, it still meant that a knight of Camelot would be in the final tomorrow. Merlin had heard more than one person comment that this bout would be more exciting than anything that could happen in the final.

Merlin didn't mind who really won. His son had shown himself to be brave and honourable, which, for the time being, was all that was needed. Arthur would take the throne when Merlin felt sure he was ready. At just nineteen years old Merlin knew Arthur still had some time before he matured enough to run the kingdom but the rest of the nobles and kings felt inclined to agree that Merlin would not have to wait much longer. He would not leave Camelot when he abdicated in favour of Arthur, his son would still require his guidance. The whole of Albion did so.

The thoughts drew Merlin's gaze to the far end, left of the jousting arena. Arthur looked ready, mounted on the large, grey stallion. The horse spun a circle, snorting and slamming his feet down as he turned, tail lifting in the air in anticipation. Merlin felt a sudden dark shiver down his spine as he heard the clang of Arthur's visor slamming down. There was no way that Merlin could have heard the sound through the cheering, shouting crowd, but he did and he hissed sharply at the ripple of tension the sound caused. King Lot turned to give him a curious look. Merlin glanced to his right, to look at Galahad, also mounted; his father, Sir Lancelot steadying the horse and waiting for the flag.

Merlin blinked again as the sound of the material dropping rippled through his mind. So many strange sounds seemed heightened. The sounds were not strange in themselves, but the fact that Merlin could hear them seemed odd. He consciously relaxed, trying to keep his mind open, but under control, as he sifted through the sensations that suddenly seemed to bombard him.

The horses moved so slowly, and he watched the two men shift in their saddles as they prepared themselves. Merlin blinked, in what seemed like a slow, long second, but he knew it was something more than that. It was one of those things that he could not control and he gripped the arms of his chair as he watched his son. His magic flashed around but there was nothing he could do as he watched the dram unfold.

Shock echoed through the crowd as Arthur suddenly seemed to waver in his seat. Merlin probably had a clearer view than anything as the sudden shifts crashed through his mind. The lance dropped, crashing down against the wooden rail separating the opponents. Arthur fell forward onto the horse's neck.

Merlin watched in shock, rising from his seat without realising he had moved. Galahad realised too late that Arthur was in trouble. He managed at the last second to divert the direction of his lance and the tip smashed into Arthur's side, splintering as it crashed into his armour. The force of the blow propelled Arthur off his horse and he slammed onto the ground.

The crowd cried out in shock, a ripple running around the arena. Merlin was already moving, as were Percival and Lancelot. Galahad turned in the saddle, trying to control his horse long enough to dismount. The beast jumped and snorted as he struggled to control it. Lancelot rushed forward, ducking under the rail to reach his son. Percival, and then Gwaine, made it to Arthur, trying to contain the struggling youth, his screams echoing around his helmet as he tried to pull it off, clutching at his head in panic.

For a moment there was nothing but chaos as some of the crowd remained frozen, others standing and shifting to see what had happened, others struggling to move to try and see better, or somehow assist. Several of them were urged to climb over to get to Arthur and offer assistance.

Renyard followed on Merlin's heels, the young king able to keep up, as Merlin ran down the steps and vaulted the fence around the arena to run across the dusty ground to his son. Arthur still struggled as Percival finally managed to unfasten and yank off Arthur's helmet. The prince flinched away at the sudden burst of sun on his eyes and he clutched the side of his head, still screaming in pain. Percival tried to find an injury but could see nothing. Arthur didn't help as he continued to keep his hand clamped to the side of his head.

"Arthur, calm down!" Gwaine said, trying to contain Arthur's limbs so Percival could assess what was wrong. Merlin ducked the central rail and shouldered Gwaine out of the way. He didn't bother to see if Arthur was injured. Instead he grabbed Arthur's head, lifting him upwards, Percival helped support him as Merlin cupped Arthur's jaw with one hand and put his other over Arthur's where it clutched the side of his head.

The sounds around Merlin speeded up again, they had as he had crossed the arena to reach Arthur, and he knew what the whole drama was suddenly about. Leon halted a few steps away, staring with wide eyes. Like some of the older people in the crowd he felt a stirring fear that history had somehow repeated itself.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice came out oddly calm, and assertive. The rest of them stared at him in shock. "Arthur!"

His voice deepened, and he shook Arthur slightly.

"It's just a memory," he announced, his voice lowering, as he addressed himself directly to Arthur, to something within him.

"Arthur!"

Most of them around him heard the Dragonlord tone in his voice, and Arthur jumped, it was not something he ignored, he had grown up knowing that was a voice he should always listen to and obey. He stopped screaming and stared at Merlin with wide eyes, blinking occasionally in shock. Merlin moved the hand on Arthur's head to smooth the hair off his forehead, damp with sweat from his helmet, and probably also from panic. Arthur's breathing remained deep and somewhat erratic. Merlin cupped his head again gently. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was didn't come out.

"It's just a memory Arthur, you're fine. It's fine," Merlin said soothingly, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact. Arthur blinked again, taking another breath before slowly lifting the hand clamped to his head. He looked at the palm in disbelief before putting his hand back to feel. After a few seconds Merlin reached up to take his hand to prevent it scrabbling against his skull.

"But I could... it hurt, it hurt so much... I thought I..."

"It's not real Arthur, it's fine. You're fine. Look at me; you're fine."

Gathered around them the rest of the group eyed the interaction and each other with confusion. Galahad hung back, Lancelot keeping gentle hold of him. Renyard watched the entire thing through narrowed eyes.

"Percival, Gwaine, help him up and get him back to the castle, I'll be there shortly. Lancelot, retire Arthur from the tournament and announce Galahad the winner. Ensure the people know that Arthur is fine."

Lancelot's face flickered with uncertainty but after meeting Merlin's gaze for a moment he nodded.

"Yes, My Lord."

Merlin rose up as Gwaine and Percival lifted Arthur, waiting until he was steady before letting him walk slowly from the arena. They stayed on either side of him as he wobbled occasionally but it gave the crowd a few minutes to register that despite the fall, and following drama, that Arthur was fine and well.

"I'm sorry, My Lord. I didn't see until the last moment that something was wrong," Galahad said nervously as Merlin turned to him. Merlin smiled gently reaching out to put a hand on the youth's shoulder.

"Do not worry, all is well. Return to your tent and prepare for the meal tonight."

Galahad frowned, looking around at the ripple of conversation caused by Lancelot putting the white flag over Arthur's coat-of-arms to announce his retirement.

"It is fine. Arthur is fine. Go with your father."

Galahad nodded. The king had spoken, there was nothing else he could do but obey.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The night before the final there was a small gathering in the hall. It would not be as lavish as the feast the following night, but there were so many visitors and dignitaries that Merlin thought it fitting to make sure they felt welcome and involved.

He sat at the head of the main table, watching the action as people moved around the hall. Much of the focus remained on Arthur, with what had happened in the arena weighing on their minds. However, Arthur behaved entirely normally, through the receiving of the guests and now as he sat at the table with the other knights. There was nothing wrong with him. Merlin knew that. He felt very aware when Renyard, followed by Lot, came and returned to their seats on either side of him. Merlin tried not to feel hemmed in, but that was exactly what they had done. And he couldn't blame them.

"You know what people thought today?" Renyard asked.

"Perhaps, but Arthur is perfectly fine."

The younger king gazed at him steadily, with an expression very similar to one his father, Bayard, used to wear.

"You snapped him out of it, by telling him it was a memory. Most people remember what that could have been."

Merlin said nothing, watching as Arthur and Galahad talked. Galahad had offered a rematch, since whatever had troubled Arthur appeared to have been before they had struck. Even the young knight seemed aware that something else appeared to be happening. He stayed close to Arthur, regarding him with a thoughtful expression, but Galahad talked to Arthur and the other knights as if everything was normal.

"You could have rescheduled the bout, rather than retiring Arthur from the fray."

"He has nothing to prove," Merlin said, refusing to be drawn, although he knew Renyard would not let the subject lie. "Arthur did well today."

Renyard sat back and decided to tackle the situation directly. He glanced at Lot, who shrugged, so Renyard spoke.

"And seemed to replay the accident that his uncle had over twenty years previously. Naturally I never saw it, but everyone knows the tale. You told Arthur it was just a memory, but it is a memory that he cannot have, certainly not as his own. Unless of course, Merlin, there is something you are not telling us."

There was no way that Merlin could ignore the direct accusation. Although he gave Renyard something of an admonishing glare.

"I couldn't hide anything, because I could never be certain, not completely. I think it's rather a long story, and now is probably not the time."

"But there is a story?"

Merlin nodded, he glanced back to Arthur, who had settled within a group of knights and laughed and chatted with them as if the events of the afternoon had never happened. He seemed to sense Merlin's eyes on him and glanced over briefly, not looking entirely pleased with his father. Merlin smiled at him, not entirely certain what Arthur's discontent was about, either it was over what had happened, or, more likely, because Merlin refused to allow them to replay the joust. Merlin didn't dare risk a repeat, although he didn't think their would be one now.

"Yes, Renyard, there's a story, an old, long story."


End file.
